


thought-sick

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Bad Idea Sex, M/M, Sex in an X-Wing (Star Wars), Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: Poe Dameron had come to rescue himin an X-Wing.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40
Collections: Hoelidays Gift Exchange 2021





	thought-sick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarthAstris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/gifts).



> A non-comprehensive list of things I have handwaved: the dimensions of an X-Wing, what the inside of an X-Wing looks like, how space travel works, and the canon timeline. Enjoy!

Hux had always considered it helpful to categorize his thoughts and make lists in his head when he found himself dealing with too many issues to resolve at once. He alphabetized the lists and then sorted their items by level of urgency. By any possible measure, his current situation could be categorized as urgent. Hux was, however, focusing on something that wasn’t its most pressing aspect. Poe Dameron had come to rescue him _in an X-Wing._

“What are you waiting for? Get in here,” Dameron said.

From the ladder, Hux looked uncertainly into the cockpit of the X-Wing. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the model or the dimensions of the ship. It was meant — and as such, had only room — for one pilot. “How am I expected to ‘get in there’? There is absolutely no room for—”

He was silenced by Dameron unceremoniously yanking him forward and making him sprawl all over his lap as he sealed the pressurized transparisteel hatch overhead.

Hux tried to move into a less undignified position, maneuvering in the small space of the cockpit and being careful not to disturb the computer or any of the display controls. “What is wrong with you?” he said as he managed to lean on his side in a more-or-less comfortable position.

His side and back were pressed painfully into the side of the ship and his front was plastered to where Dameron was sitting on the seat. Only one of his feet touched the floor while the other dangled uselessly above his left leg. He could cross them but it would require putting more pressure on his leg wound. He could already feel it throbbing.

“You’re welcome,” he said to Hux and then, “Beebee, how are we doing back there?” to his astromech. His droid replied, its tinny beeps grating on Hux. “Okay, let’s get out of here, then.” He moved his hand to the joystick between his legs and touched the panel in front of him, his movements jostling Hux and brushing against his body.

“That was a subpar rescue,” Hux felt the need to point out.

Dameron scoffed. “You are unreal. Just unbelievable.” Then more seriously, he added, “how’s the leg? Sorry about the—” A pause. The sentence remained unfinished and terms such as _manhandling_ remained unvoiced. “I was trying to move things along.”

“I’m fine,” Hux said. It hurt to breathe, though. A deep ache that formed in his chest and restricted the amount of air his lungs would accept.

He carefully touched his fingers to the fabric of his tunic and when that didn’t elicit a painful physical reaction, he pressed his palm against it. The pain, the damage, seemed to have bypassed the skin altogether and aimed directly for his insides.

“What is it?” Dameron said, frowning at him.

“I took a blaster shot to the chest. I’m alright.”

“What? Those are two concepts I would not combine. Are you injured? What—?”

“I was — am — wearing a blast vest underneath. I don’t think there’s any damage.” He refrained from mentioning the choking feeling behind his ribs, the faster than average beating on his chest. He had a horrible suspicion they were an emotional, and not a physical, response.

“Let me check,” he said, his hand moving in Hux’s direction.

“I’m fine,” Hux snapped. The words felt truer the minute they came out of his mouth. Its commanding tone serving to reassure Hux, allowing some air back into his lungs.

“Okay, fine. Sorry about— leaving you behind.”

 _You came back,_ Hux thought but chose to say, “I wouldn’t have gone with you then.”

“Right, yeah.” After a moment, he added, “hey, I’m gonna need you to move. You’re blocking access to have the sensors display on the right.”

“Move where? Is there some secret hatch I am overlooking?”

“Move to the floor. There should be some room there. A humanoid pilot is meant to fit down there in case of emergency repairs.”

“But certainly not while there’s another pilot in the seat.”

“I know this is not ideal. Work with me here.” Dameron leaned his head back against the seat, exposing the long line of his neck, and let out a long exhale.

Hux watched as his throat bobbed once and unwillingly memorized the motion. He looked away but it didn’t bring any distance between their bodies.

He maneuvered awkwardly into the floor, folding his legs underneath him and then rising on his knees when he found there was no room to even sit down. He overbalanced and let out an involuntary hiss when the movement upset his leg wound. He had to reach out a hand to support himself and ended up gripping Dameron’s knee.

He looked down and said, “you okay down there? You need any help? Need me to move a little?” Then added hurriedly, “careful with the joystick.”

Hux stayed on his knees for a second trying to calculate how to maneuver in the extremely tight space and nudged Dameron’s knee. “Spread your legs.”

Dameron let out a small exhale that could have been considered a laugh. “You’re a little forward,” he said, but his words came out sounding tired and low.

Once Dameron had moved, Hux shuffled forward a little and had the weird urge to lean his forehead against Dameron’s knee. He felt both untethered and weighted down, felt something heavy settle on him, a pressure resting on his shoulders. He startled when he realized Dameron had placed a hand there and was frowning down at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a genuine-sounding strain of concern coloring his words.

 _The Order culls its weakest_ , he thought and gave in to the urge to move his head forward and rest his forehead on Dameron’s knee.

“Oh,” Dameron said, sounding surprised, his leg jumping slightly under Hux. “You’re— it’s fine. It will be— yeah.” He moved his hand and awkwardly, hesitantly, patted Hux’s head as if Hux were nothing more than a pitiful pet. When Hux didn’t move, Dameron let his hand settle against his hair and carded his fingers through it briefly before moving his hand to the armrest.

Hux went back to the list and added, right at the bottom, _my hair isn’t perfectly combed anymore._

“How long until we reach your base?” Hux asked.

Dameron looked at the status indicator and said, “almost ten minutes.”

“Where is your base?” The location had eluded them for the past year and Hux felt something close to panic bubble to the surface knowing that he was going to learn it while on his knees in front of Poe Dameron.

Dameron hesitated, biting his lip, and the gesture aggravated Hux.

“I’ll find out in ten minutes when we reach its location. What exactly is it—?” His voice came out loud, louder because of how close they were how small the space around them was; immensely claustrophobic.

Dameron cut him off. “It’s in Ajan Kloss.”

Hux frowned. It really was always the last place you would have thought to look. “That jungle moon?”

“Yeah, well, when you’re on the run from a tyrannical military junta you don’t get to be picky.”

Hux supposed that also applied to himself now. He couldn’t be picky. _Ten minutes_ , he thought.

“Whoa, hey, what are you doing?” Dameron asked, inching back in his seat when Hux pressed his face against his lap.

“Help me with the zipper,” Hux said instead. He moved his hand under the flak vest but the angle was wrong no matter how much he bent his wrist.

“No.” He batted Hux’s hands away. “What is wrong with you?”

Hux sighed and moved forward, rubbing his face over the fabric and trying to nuzzle his dick, elicit a reaction from him. It felt good, but it was pathetic and weak.

“Stop that. Beebee is here,” Dameron said, sounding scandalized.

Hux looked up uncomprehendingly. “What?”

“My droid, man.”

Oh. “It can’t see us,” Hux said slowly, though he found this whole conversation absurd.

“I—” He bit his lip. “I don’t know.” He sounded more open to the idea, though.

Hux moved closer again and opened his mouth, tried to lick him through his flight suit but the material was thick and the zipper was in the way.

Dameron pressed his hand against Hux’s forehead and pushed him away. “You’re drooling on me. I don’t like that.”

Hux sighed, annoyed with Dameron’s apparently high standards for hurried blowjobs. He turned his face to his left, reaching for Dameron’s hand, and sucked two of his fingers into his mouth. It wasn’t something Hux particularly derived pleasure from doing but he hoped, if nothing else, the sight of him doing it would serve to sway Dameron.

“Kriff, you’re a lot.” His words had an undercurrent of surprise, maybe awe to them. He didn’t push his fingers farther into Hux’s mouth but didn’t remove them immediately either.

Hux sucked on them and lightly scraped his teeth against the pad of fingers but it must have been the wrong move because Dameron moved his fingers away. Hux’s disappointment was short-lived, though.

When Dameron leaned down, one hand on the back of Hux’s neck, his first instinct was to recoil but Dameron held him firmly, his touch grounding, and pressed their lips together; slow, gentle, almost chaste. He closed his eyes as they kissed but Hux kept his open; from shock, maybe from a desire to understand or at least memorize this. He focused on Dameron’s features; the way his eyes fluttered shut, his long eyelashes making the gesture seem seductive. The small exhale he let out as he pulled away.

“What was that for?” Hux said, his words coming out with an accusatory undertone. He found his fingers moving to his mouth, his fingertips pressing against his wet lower lip. He felt himself unravel from such a small and insignificant action.

“I wanted to do that before we did this.” His hands were moving on his zipper now and he wasn’t looking at Hux.

It was such an absurd notion that Hux almost laughed. He had given plenty of blowjobs without exchanging kisses before or after.

Hux hesitated with Dameron’s dick right in front of him. He hadn’t done this in a long time. He placed his hands on Dameron’s knees and leaned forward, wishing he had more recent practice in it.

He sucked on the tip and moved to take a bit more into his mouth, careful not to graze him with his teeth. He pulled back and repeated the motion. He doubted he was astounding Dameron with his skills, though. With that thought in mind, he moved to take him deeper, swallowing convulsively around the head of his cock as it inched toward the back of his throat. He felt his eyes prickle and his lungs burn until he choked and had to pull away to cough. He had gone too fast or maybe too far.

Hux flinched when he felt Dameron’s hand on his face but he just moved his thumb over Hux’s cheek and the corner of his eye to wipe away some moisture.

Dameron knotted his fingers into his hair and nudged him closer. “Can I?”

Hux nodded and opened his mouth to let him in, keeping his eyes open. There wasn’t enough room for Dameron to hold his head in place and thrust into his mouth, so he just moved Hux shallowly over his dick; a slow back and forth that didn’t let Hux go as deep as he had tried to on his own.

Hux kept his lips sealed tightly over Dameron’s cock and applied suction but there wasn’t a lot to do with Dameron controlling his movements, so he mostly let himself sink into the repetitive nature of the motions and the way his knees felt on the floor. He didn’t have to think about the past day or the next one. He just had to focus on the way Dameron was using his mouth.

Dameron moved his hand from his hair to his shoulder and said, his voice ragged, “I’m close, if you want to—”

Hux pulled off but only to say, “that’s alright,” before going back down. He braced one hand on Dameron’s knee and had to suppress a violent flinch as Dameron covered it with his own.

An unexpected meeting of skin on skin.

Afterward, as they arrived at a Rebel base — formerly an enemy base — Hux took stock and recategorized. He made a new list, _things I regret doing in the past day._

The list came up empty.


End file.
